


no rest for the wicked; no peace for the good

by aeltaiir



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Gen, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt Tony Stark, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark Friendship, James "Rhodey" Rhodes is a Good Bro, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Team as Family, Temporary Character Death, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:13:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23533621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeltaiir/pseuds/aeltaiir
Summary: AU where every time you die you gain a tally mark.---It’s not like Tony’s ashamed of his marks, or at least that’s what he tells himself late at night when he actually let’s himself think about it. He’s not, he just wants privacy, you know? Of course, Rhodey would say there are other issues surrounding his marks, probably while using fancy words like “self-worth” and “trust issues” and “you-see-them-as-a-reflection-of-your-weaknesses-and-shortcomings-and-you-feel-like-they-represent-all-of-your-failures-in-life” and “issues with authority” but those are just Rhodey words so they don’t count.---A team-bonding fic in which Tony learns to be kinder to himself and to trust others.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 183
Collections: Avengers as Family, Ultimate Favorites, marvel fics that are marvelous





	no rest for the wicked; no peace for the good

**Author's Note:**

> \--- Warnings for this fic are located at the end ---
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters nor the universe and ideas and I make no money off of this.

Tony has died too many times. Or maybe not enough, depending on how you want to look at it or who you are to him. Most people would say too many. A lot of others would say not enough. Tony’s own thoughts switch day to day.

His first death wasn’t exactly monumental. He slipped, with the term “slipped” being used loosely, down the stairs, maybe age three or four, his memory of back then is blurry, for more than one reason, and woke up in Jarvis’ arms, blood across his temple and a tally mark burned onto his arm. It wasn’t exactly painful, the burning. But it was noticeable. At least the first time. Over the next decade, the burns tended to not feel that bad. Funny that. Howard’s “slips” didn’t feel any better though. Funny that too.

His next half-dozen were maybe slightly more interesting, only due to the fact that they weren’t just the handful of outcomes of Howard having a few too many drinks. Kidnappings count for being at least a little exciting, right? Tony would like to think so, gives a bit more character to the next set of tally marks, in his opinion. Most of those incidents happened during his early youth, though most of them stopped around MIT. Bit harder to capture a teenager, thankfully.

MIT was also when Tony started to cover up more seriously, long sleeves and sweaters working wonders. Not much of the press knew about it, his two decades worth of tallies there but undocumented, due to the careful planning of Howard. Still, better safe than sorry, Tony thought.

Anyways, it’s not like he never showed anyone. Rhodey knew, and by choice too which is even more of a victory and surprise to Tony. Showing Rhodey was his choice and his alone, and the older man didn’t even look at him with a hint of distaste afterward, which was the real saving grace.

Even still, Rhodey was the last person he showed for a while.

The next person, if they can be counted as such, to see him were his captors, the ones who ripped out his heart and forced him to make a new one. The first day alone added four new marks, which Yinsen brought Tony’s attention to after he woke up following the initial surgery. The weeks to come would add three more.

Yet, even with his growing array of tallies, Tony was still alive. Somehow. Even after Obie, Obadiah, tried to remedy that, instead only adding yet another tally to his collection.

Pepper nearly had a fit when she found out. Well, that’s not quite true, she did have a fit. A fit that resulted in radio-silence from Tony and Rhodey eventually using his code to get the lab open and finally getting Tony to actually listen to Pepper’s apology and explanation that no, it wasn’t his fault, she was mad for him, not at him.

After the palladium poisoning, Tony can, for sure, say that she was mad at him, when he was dying but didn’t tell her. Which, he supposes, is kinda fair. He didn’t gain any tallies though, no, just a sense of general death worse than any definitive sign. Sometimes, when it was late at night and dark he considered just carving another tally anyways, as he was basically dead already. He didn’t. He’s not sure if he’s happy about it or not.

Coulson knew. He saw Tony when he was dying and, frankly, was too tired to care who knew at that point. He didn’t mention it, but Tony knew he knew. He wasn’t exactly covering up at the time, it was his home and he was in a crisis, cut him some slack. He also supposes Agent didn’t get to be top spy due to luck.

After palladium, Tony decided the sleeves alone weren’t good enough. So, with a new heart beating in his chest, he made new arms for himself too. Well, technically only a mesh that covers up any tally marks, but still. With the limelight becoming ever brighter, it seemed necessary.

The next person to know was, surprisingly, Loki. The mesh was strong, but not alien battle strong, apparently. Well, not before the invasion, afterward it can withstand anything from fire to acid. Still, they stopped working halfway through the battle and Tony was a bit too concerned with distracting the mage than covering up his arms. Loki also seemed too distracted to care, Tony knows glassy eyes when he seems them and those eyes were not there, and Tony was busy getting thrown out of a window so that’s where that ended.

Until it started again.  
\--

“So how’s it going with the team? They treating you right?” Rhodey asks, face lit up by the video call.

“They’re fine, honeybear, all is good here,” Tony says with a snort. “You don’t have to act like an overprotective mother whose kid just started dating,”

“Wanna bet?” Rhodey smirks, raising an eyebrow.

“Please no,” Tony begged, laughing along. “But seriously, it’s okay,” he assured.

“Just okay?” Rhodey asked, suddenly serious.

“They’re marvelous, superb, best people I’ve ever worked with,” Tony amends, deadpan. “Better?” he asks, only to be met with an unimpressed stare.

“Heard you got a new one,” Rhodey says, voice calm but concerned.

“So?” Tony questions, suddenly interested back in whatever he was fiddling with.

“You okay?”

“Course, you know me, I’m always good,” Tony assures, smile plastered on.

“The reason I’m asking is because I know you Tones,” Rhodey says, sighing slightly. “Just, take care yeah? Call more?” he offers and suggests, sharing a weary look with an old friend.

“Yeah, I’ll try,”

\--- 

The team was suspicious of him. Which, to be honest, was not a surprise, or shouldn’t have been to him, yet it was still slightly a shock when Tony first realized. At first, he just thought they were being careful around him due to him being newly tallied, a big thing for most people he thinks with a scoff. But no. They were suspicious of him. To be fair, it wasn’t unjustified, Tony thought to himself as he tinkered with yet another small thing in his lab.

Tally marks weren’t personal but it’s not like they were shared openly. But, that could also be since most people don’t come back after their first one. Still, having one wasn’t exactly unusual, especially if your line of business was something with a high-risk factor. Tony knew for a fact that Natasha had multiple, according to her file on Shield at least six but Tony would bet it was more like ten, and Clint as well, the archer being in the four to six range. Bruce has two, one of them Tony knows being due to his own attempt to get rid of the Hulk, the other due to other circumstances. Rogers has one, Tony is pretty sure, and Thor has none, which Tony is also fairly sure can be credited to his origin.

According to Shield, Tony has two, with the term “at least” tagged on for credibility and a small question mark, just to be sure. They’re most likely counting Afghanistan and the nuke, Tony muses to himself as he welds together his latest contraption. Those would be the most backed up by evidence, he supposes. But anyway, back to the matter at hand; they’re suspicious.

To be fair it’s kinda expected. I mean, secrets, in general, make people suspicious, even more so when Tony is the one keeping them. That’s probably because his secrets tend to more destructive than others. More to himself than anyone else his friends would argue, but still. Destructive.

Tony knows Natasha has a hunch though. She was sent to shadow him after all, and Fury has asked about his marks so it isn’t exactly like it’s implausible to assume she looked into his marks. Not that she found anything but still.

It’s not like Tony’s ashamed of his marks, or at least that’s what he tells himself late at night when he actually let’s himself think about it. He’s not, he just wants privacy, you know? Of course, Rhodey would say there are other issues surrounding his marks, probably while using fancy words like “self-worth” and “trust issues” and “issues with authority” but those are just Rhodey words so they don’t count.

The team started a movie night. Really, Tony should have seen this coming. First Rogers comes up with team bonding exercises, then Fury says he wants more communication between team members, really this was inevitable when you think about it, it’s basically required for ragtag teams to have movie nights. By law or something probably. What isn’t required, on the hand, is attendance, Tony concludes as he wheels himself back under his current restoration project.

“Tony?”

“I mean, what are they gonna do, drag me?” Tony mumbles to himself even as he slides out from under the antique car. “I’m a free man,”

“Stark?” Rogers calls again and Tony sighs, wiping his greasy hands on his jeans and finding where the captain is standing, looking very out of place in the doorway to his workshop.

“Captain, what can I do for you?” Tony asks, clapping his hands together while checking to see if the mesh is still in place.

“It’s movie night,” Rogers explained, looking all too reluctant in Tony’s shop.

“Would it be too on the nose to call you Captain obvious?” Tony asks, smirking at his obvious discomfort.

“Sorry?”

“It’s fine,” Tony says, practically prancing back over to his work table to look through his lists, never empty now due to Fury and Tony isn’t sure if that’s something he should be happy or annoyed at.

“Do you want to join us?” Rogers asks, impatience finally in his tone as he crosses his arms.

“Rather not, to be honest,” Tony says, knowing full well the only reason they want him there is, well they don’t want him there, that’s the point.

“Okay,” Rogers says, uncrossing his arms and standing there for a few seconds, staring at Tony and seemingly debating his next step before nodding and turning around to leave. 

“They’re weekly,” Rogers adds, at the doorway.

“Might have time next week,”

“See you there, then?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Tony answers, already typing up a response to his next email, ignoring Roger’s sigh and locking his workshop door after the other man leaves.

\---

When Tony says society is generally accepting of all marks, that’s pretty much a blatant lie. Well, maybe not blatantly, of course society isn’t exactly always open about their dislikes, but Tony knows. He’s seen the movies, the villains always having a few too many marks, just to seem un-human in the eyes of the audience. Maybe the hero has one or two, normally due to a tragic backstory or a heroic action that costs them their life for a moment.

Besides, if that wasn’t evidence enough, Tony has enough personal proof. Howard, as much of a dick as he was, knew what he was doing with the public when he covered up Tony’s arms at a young age. He knew what the media’s response would be: maybe positive at first due to Tony’s age, but as he got older and gained more marks the only response would be wariness and suspicion, at Tony’s inhumanness.

And, sure, maybe those who knew him would be less critical or wary, but then again the team was exactly that so maybe not.

\---

Tony shows up the next week, somewhat unwillingly, as he let slip his and Roger’s conversation to Pepper the other day and, when she insisted he turn up, he couldn’t really say no.

Still, he's there, on his phone as he perches in the corner of one of the couches. The movie is already going, the team’s running commentary adding to the sound of the actors, the room dim and people sprawled out. They’ve been doing this for a while now, Tony reminds himself.

The movie isn’t bad, he supposes. It isn’t exactly thrilling, but Tony guesses the movie isn’t the main point of these evenings. Still, it isn’t bad. At least with the movie on he doesn’t have to talk, except for a few quips here and there to seem engaged.

Once the movie finishes, it seems that no one is eager to leave, well except for Tony but he can’t really be the first to bolt, can he, that would ruin the whole point of doing this. Conversation starts, and he mostly ignores the rest of the team, texting R&D about the latest project while still dipping an ear in and out of the conversation as needed.

“What about you, Stark?”

Looking up, Tony turns his head to the side, questioningly. “Huh?” 

“Talking about marks,” Steve fills him in, reluctance in his voice as he looks away. “Clint asked,”

Ah. That does make sense, Tony supposes. The movie was centered around marks or something, he thinks, from when he was listening. Now they’re talking about them. Yay.

“What about me?” He asks Clint, not looking up from his screen.

“How many?” Clint asks, and really, Tony can credit the man for his bluntness, even if it does earn him a smack from Natasha.

“What, we all know each other's, pretty much,” Clint defends, “I mean maybe not precisely but we all have an idea and here’s Stark, being all mysterious,”

Rolling her eyes, Natasha glances back over to Tony, looking slightly apologetic, but also questioning, though she may be trying to hide the latter.

“It’s part of my allure, all my secrets,” Tony said, voice flat as he typed faster.

“That’s the line you’re going with?” Clint asks, raising an eyebrow as he snorts.

“Why do you care, anyways,”

“Well why not, it’s not like it’s a big deal Stark,”

“Clint, shut up,” Bruce finally says, shaking his head.

Grumbling, Clint heeds anyways, with a sighed fine, which Tony takes as his cue to leave, nodding at Bruce and Natasha before heading off.

\---

“Nope,” Tony says, eyes locked onto the holo-screen before him, and really eye contact is just the worst. That’s one of the things he learned early on. That and if you just ignore someone they’ll go away eventually. Valuable life lessons, those.

“Tony,” Pepper starts, in her Tony-please-come-on-now voice.

“Pep, I went last week, shouldn’t that be enough?”

“Well, it is a weekly event,” She responds, with a weak smile, sighing when he doesn’t respond. “I thought you said it went well,” she asks.

“It did,”

“But…?”

Sighing, Tony turns to her, flicking away the screen.

“Maybe I just don’t want to waste my time,” he suggests, aiming for cold but falling short.

“Something happened,” Pepper asks, or more likely states.

“They asked,” Tony finally gives, knowing she will either guess it or not leave until he tells her.

“Did you answer?”

Raising an eyebrow, Tony shakes his head. “Too complicated,” he settles on.

“Tony, you’re a group of literal superheroes, all of which having enough issues and complications for an entire therapist’s office and then some,” Pepper starts, hands on her hips as she levels her stare. “I don’t think your tallies could really complicate it that much,”

“Yeah, well, maybe they’ll surprise you,” Tony grumbles.

“Or they might you,” Pepper sighs, shaking her head when Tony simply looks away. “Just, try?” she asks. “Maybe not this one but at least the one after?”

“I’ll try, Pep,”

“Good,’

\---

Tony hasn’t ever really been a team player. At least, that’s what he’s always been told. Maybe he is a team player, maybe he isn’t. Regardless, it doesn't really matter now that he is on an actual team. Not even Fury can complain, what with the whole thing being his idea and all.

Tony would consider himself more of a personal person. He would like to think he can work in a team, as proven by the continued survival of the initiative. But he wants his space, his privacy, his own life.

The rest of the team isn’t like that.

Natasha seems to thrive off of privacy, however, she also is one of the most open members, sharing most of her life. Of course, it could be entirely fabricated but still. Tony thinks most of it has truth in it.

Clint is much the same, although Tony would bet that nearly all of his sharing is actually the truth.

Bruce doesn’t have much to hide anymore, so he’s pretty open too, Tony muses. Not much about childhood but, really, none of them truly are. Apparently, shitty parents are a prerequisite for being on the team, Tony thinks with a snort.

Thor is the most open out of all of them, although Tony suspects he hides the most. It’s easy to pick out the good stories when you have hundreds of years of them, and even easier to simply leave out the bad ones.

Rogers is becoming more open, Tony realizes. Of course, most of his life was already known to Tony, thanks to Howard, but the soldier is starting to volunteer more stories on his own accord. Which is good, Tony thinks. Open is good.

\---

“It’s been a month, Tony,” Bruce said one day, from his place across the lab.

“Bruce,” Tony warned. Bruce was probably the only one in the team Tony actually trusts. The other man seems softer than the others. He doesn’t have any formal training, that Tony knows of, he’s not a spy for Fury, he’s not a soldier or a god. He and Tony are basically the only civilians in the team. It’s nice, Tony thinks, or at least better than just having a whole team of Fury-loyals. Still, Tony barely even talks about this stuff with Rhodey and Pepper, and he’s not about to start now. Maybe Jarvis knows, but then again Jarvis is Jarvis so it’s okay.

“I’m just saying, Tony,” Bruce placates, holding his hands up. “We miss you,”

Scoffing, Tony shakes his head with a smile. “Look, you don’t need to pretend just for their sakes, Brucie,” Tony says, continuing at Bruce’s confused stare. “I know you guys just ask me to ask me,” he explains. “It’s cool though,” comes the follow-up, when Bruce’s stare starts to head more to incredulous. “Good even, movie nights or bonding isn’t really my thing anyway,” he jokes, before turning back around to work again, effectively cutting off the conversation.

\---

You’d think it would get easier after nineteen or so times, Tony thinks to himself one day, slumped on the workshop couch as he tosses a ball to Dum-e. You’d think it would be a walk in the park after the first few.

“I know it wouldn’t” he mutters to himself, grabbing the ball back from the claw to toss it again. “Would have been nice though,”

“What would have?” Clint asked, plopping himself next to Tony.

“How’d you get in?”

“Jarvis?” Clint offers, taking the ball offered to him from the robot and throwing it. “I asked nicely,”

“Hm,” Tony hummed. “There a reason you’re here?”

“It’s almost time for dinner,” Clint explains, and, with a look over at the clock displayed by Jarvis, it was indeed 7.

“Okay, and?” Tony asked.

Rolling his eyes, Clint threw the ball again before looking over at Tony. “Come join us,”

“Maybe I’m busy,” Tony said, watching Dum-e roll around.

“C’mon Tony, we both know you’re not,”

Sighing, Tony nods, before getting up. “Lead the way then,” he says, resignedly, giving a weak laugh at Clint’s surprise. “I can be social, you know,” he said, patting Dum-e as he flicks away the holo screens on his work table before telling Jarvis to shut the rest down. “Basically made a career out of it, in fact,”

“You don’t seem very social with us, lately,” Clint countered.

“You don’t make it very easy, sometimes,” Tony shot back.

“This cause of what I asked?” Clint guesses, walking into the elevator and waiting for Tony to join him.

Sighing, Tony nods, knowing he can’t exactly lie or deflect out of this one.

“Look, man, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Clint says, looking uncomfortable himself as he rubs the back of his neck. “Didn’t know it would be a thing, or whatever,” he offers.

“It’s fine,” Tony placates. “Just, not again, yeah?” he asks, with a small smile.

“Not again,” Clint nods, smiling back.

\---

Maybe the whole team-bonding thing could be something he gets used to, Tony thinks, talking to Rhodey one night. After that dinner a few days ago, the team seems a bit more friendly to him, maybe due to his and Clint’s conversation. Not that he’s complaining, better to have Clint tell them than Tony himself have to do it.

“Pepper says you actually went this week,” Rhodey says, switching topics.

“The two of you conspire, I swear,”

“How else would we handle you, Tones,” Rhodey teases.

“I’ll have you know I’m a delight to handle,”

“Course you are, course,” he answers, before trailing off. “It’s good though,”

“It’s not bad,”

“I meant for you,”

“Yeah, I know,” Tony sighs. “Anyways,” he starts. “How’s the base treating you? Anyone I need to come beat up” he asks, heart feeling lighter than it has in a while at Rhodey’s full laugh.

\----

It had been a while, Tony laments, eyes closed as he takes in his surroundings. Hospital, he concludes, from the sound of it. Late at night too, he adds, opening his eyes to a dimly lit room and hospital bed.

“You know, this ranks pretty low on the places I want to wake up,” he mutters to himself, nearly jumping at the resulting snort.

“What happened?” he asked, looking around the room until finding Natasha, sat on one of the chairs next to him, book in hand.

“Don’t remember?”

He does, but probably not the part past when he passed out.

“Suit went down,” he states, sitting up only to be tugged by the wire in his forearm.

Nodding, Natasha gets up, walking over to unplug him from the IV, shrugging at his curious gaze. “You don’t like hospitals,” she offers.

“Thanks,” he mutters, meaning it, before sitting all the way up. “Am I allowed to leave?” he asks.

“Not tonight, I’m afraid,” is the answer, and Tony slumps back, head hitting the wall behind the bed, not even opening his eyes at the hesitant intake of breath.

“Not like you to be hesitant,” he offers.

“We didn’t check,” comes the answer, prompting Tony to open his eyes, only to see her gaze on his arm. “You didn’t flatline here, they said, but with your heart, it’s hard to tell what happened on the field,” she explains. “They say you might have,”

“Oh. Thanks,” Tony says, shrugging. “Okay,” he says, before adding “thanks,” and closing his eyes.

“Yeah?” he asks into the silent and dark room, feeling her eyes still on him.

“You don’t seem bothered,”

“Should I be?”

“You could have died,”

“And?”

“Most people consider that a bit of a deal,”

“I’m not most,” Tony deadpans, opening his eyes to look at the spy.

“No, you’re not,” she agrees, pausing to hold the eye contact before looking down and opening the book again, leaving Tony to close his eyes yet again. 

\---

There wasn’t a mark. Tony checked once he got home, stripping off the mesh and doing a quick count of his arm. Still the same old number, staring back at him. Showing him his weaknesses, his failures, his shortcomings in just one number. Beautiful.

“No more,” he texts Natasha, at around two in the morning. “Still the same,”

“Guess you’re stronger than they thought,” came the reply.

And really, Tony should be used to her riddles by now, and yet he still rolls his eyes at this blatant one.

“Maybe,”

\---

In his opinion, and really this is one of those things that’s his opinion and his alone, Tony is first and foremost an inventor. An engineer. A designer. Whatever work you wanna use. He's a maker.

His mesh is, if he does say so himself, a beauty. He designed it in a fit of frustration after the whole palladium fiasco, when, although he wasn’t physically dying, it felt like his life was in shambles. It adapts perfectly to his skin, feels like skin, looks like skin, stays secure, and is just generally a work of art. After the invasion, it got even better, the added strength he made sure to redesign into it working wonders.

Tony tries to be happy with most things he makes, and in general is successful, at least after the first scrapped attempts, but there are few things he really is just proud of. Jarvis and his bots are, of course, his best creations. The mesh comes on the list too.

However, as proud as he was of it, ditching it was surprisingly easy.

\---

Long sleeves were easy enough to switch back to. The weather in New York wasn’t exactly tropical, not like Malibu, and so he wasn’t overheating, either outside or indoors in his cool workshop. 

It was freeing. Maybe Rhodey was right about trust issues or whatever, issues with being open or something. Regardless, Tony was glad he decided to switch back. Besides, the marks were easy to hide. The only ones that would be visible if his sleeve slipped would be the first five, and even those were an inch in from the base of his wrist.

Most of the team didn’t notice. Most, because, of course, Natasha noticed immediately. She was around before the mesh, so maybe that’s why she was so quick to comment, with a pointed glance and raised eyebrow that Tony answered with a shrug, nodding back at her nod of understanding.

Clint probably knows too, what with the whole spy thing. Plus, he’s the touchiest of them all, even with Tony. Not that there should have been much, or any, of a difference, but still. Tony’s a bit less touchy and more aware of his arms now.

Steve probably doesn’t know, and that’s fine because there’s no reason he should. He hasn’t really asked about the marks, except for maybe a few mentions of them in general and a nervous glance at Tony.

Bruce knows because Tony mentioned it. Bruce was both supportive and very happy, as Tony showed him the mesh and how he made it, and they messed around with it for an afternoon and night in the lab.

Thor wouldn’t know, but then again he hasn’t been around for a while so he hasn’t been in the loop much. Tony would like to think that he would encourage it, with how open the god seems to be.

Rhodey and Pepper were both supportive. He went to Pepper first, hoping to be talked out of it, to instead be told it was a great idea. Rhodey went much the same way, making Tony feel like the kid who goes to each parent, hoping to get a better answer than the other gave them.

Still, Tony has to admit they were right, even if it was his idea in the first place. Even Jarvis was supportive, which wasn’t surprising as the AI had been hinting at losing the mesh for a while now, but still. It was good.

\---

The team seems to be working better than ever before lately, Tony thinks one morning as he sips his coffee in the kitchen, blearily checking his emails and texts. Both on and off the field too, which is a miracle, considering how they got along when they first met.

Coulson would be proud, Tony thinks as he nods to Steve walking in. A big happy family, we are, Tony muses with a snort into his cup, shaking his head at Steve’s questioning look.

Tony’s been trying to stay in more communal areas for a little while, and he’d like to think it’s been helping. Bruce at least seems grateful to have him there, and Natasha seems approving. Tony is pretty sure she’s been talking to Pepper about him. He’s probably not wrong. Regardless, Tony thinks he likes it too.

Of course, every now and then he’ll still lock himself away in his shop. But, even then, someone comes and gets him after it's been longer than thirty-six hours, which is not nearly long enough in Tony’s opinion but apparently that opinion has been vetoed. Still, they normally bring a plate of food and an idea of sleep so he’ll accept it.

“Getting an early morning, Tony?” Steve asks, sitting down with a piece of toast and some jam, way too chipper for the hour of morning it is.

“Yes?” Tony asks, with probably too much of a question in his voice, because the soldier pauses and looks up, squinting at the engineer in front of him.

“What time-” he starts, only to be cut off.

“Anyways, I’ll be seeing you, Cap,” Tony says, getting abruptly and downing his coffee.

“You didn’t sleep, did you?” Steve asks, voice stern but slightly amused which, okay wow, that’s a new one.

“I did,” Tony protests, pouring himself a new cup as it seems he’ll be there for a while now.

“For longer than an hour?”

“Probably,”

“Probably?”

“Was hard to check the time, Cap, my eyes were shut,” Tony smirks.

“You gotta take care of yourself,” Steve sighs.

“No rest for the wicked,” Tony counters, heading round the table to leave, only just hearing Steve mutter while shaking his head.

“No peace for the good,”

\---

Apparently Tony could only go so long before gaining another. At least it evens out, he thinks with a bitter scoff, thumb rubbing against the newly burned mark.

This one, Tony thinks to himself as he lays in his own bed, is probably the worst one though.

It was a fairly typical mission, at first. They did get captured, but that was always a risk. Besides, it’s not like it had never happened before. The same can be said for the torture. This was all old news to all of them at this point. The waterboarding was new though. At least they’re mixing it up nowadays, Tony jokes bitterly, snorting and then regretting it as his hand flies to his chest in an attempt to quell the pain.

Little old school but at least they’re trying.

He was even the first one to get to go. Volunteered, over the protests of his conscious teammates. Bruce was still down, knocked unconscious early on so that, along with Thor’s absence, stopped any actual initial escaping.

To be fair, if he was normal and didn’t have a lump of metal in his chest, he probably would have been fine. Well, physically fine at least. They were pretty gentle, Tony muses sarcastically. They just didn’t account for me not having one hundred percent of my lung capacity.

Natasha and Clint brought him back, seeing something wrong immediately as they watched him gulp for air that wasn’t going in. The actual CPR was what led to the most pain, Tony is pretty sure. The reactor hurts most days, it didn’t really make it happy to be pressed on. Still, at least he’s alive, which is, apparently, a good thing.

He’s not sure exactly when he went out, but he remembers coming back, to the fire in his arm and the bright light of the bulb at the top of their cell flashing in his eyes a testament to his survival.

\---

Natasha has been texting him. Well, they all have really, with even Fury himself sending a few. Called too. Natasha is the one he’s most tempted to answer. Not that he does.

\---

Rhodey and Pepper call him. He answers after a week, mostly out of fear that they’ll break into his workshop if he doesn’t. They’re worried, as he expected. He tells them he’s fine.

“Tones, you drowned,” Rhodey points out, his words and gaze sharp with worry.

“I am aware,” comes the weary answer.

“Drowned,” Rhodey emphasized, knowing all too much about Tony’s relationship with water.

“So I’ll stay away from baths for a little while,” Tony jokes as if he hasn’t already been avoiding them since he left that desert. It might have been convincing too if his voice wasn’t scratchy from crying and he looked less like he hasn’t slept in a week, which was hard because he hadn’t.

“Tones,” Rhodey said, drawing the name out with just enough worry to make Tony sigh.

“I’ll be careful, honeybear,” he promises, giving a weak smile before wishing his best and hanging up.

\---

He does answer Bruce. Can’t not really, as he has a feeling that if he just ignored the doctor’s inquiries he would be forcefully torn from his workshop, and that’s not really something he can handle. Besides, after Tony ignored the first non-medical question, Bruce kept to business only.

\---

Pepper’s call went much the same as Rhodey’s but with a bit more anger from Pepper’s side and a bit more placating from Tony’s. It ended with a promise of a visit from the former and a promise of sleep and food from the latter.

\---

Tasha knows. She has to. His arm wasn’t exactly at the forefront of his mind when he was thrown back into the hard cell, but he’s pretty sure it was exposed. When he came back it wasn’t, but Natasha gave him that look and nod, so he’s pretty sure who he can credit for that. He’s not sure if the others know.

\---

Bruce, bless him, got him out of the hospital. Steve, of course, insisted he stay for the night, but, upon a forceful argument from Bruce, he was convinced otherwise. Staying there would only make it harder for Tony, Bruce justified. His lungs are okay now and Jarvis and I can monitor him at the tower anyways. This will only make him feel worse. That was the clips of the argument Tony caught, slipping in and out of consciousness before finally waking up. Bruce smiled at him, which he returned with a grateful nod. He’ll have to thank him some other way too, later.

\---

Steve texts like an old person, Tony finds out. Signs his name and everything, after each text. Tony isn't that surprised, but it’s still amusing. Clint texts like he talks, hurried and chaotic and going on tangents with every other sentence. It’s a joy to read, actually, it reminds Tony of how he talks with people he likes.

Natasha and Bruce text like normal people, with the former leaving more implied in her text than the latter, but both texting pretty normally. Thor doesn’t text, and Tony should get on that, he thinks to himself, swiping away the read texts on his screen, leaning back on his heels from his place in front of his counter.

After two weeks of basically what amounts to radio-silence, Tony decides to text back, seeing as the nightmares are starting to lessen and his chest finally stops aching so much.

\---

Texting is pretty okay, Tony decides, three weeks after the incident and one week after having reopened communication.

Steve doesn’t really text him much, and neither does Tony, but the others do. Tasha and Clint being the most noticeable, but even Bruce sends him a few sentences a day.

Clint reminds him of the movie night in passing.

\---

They both know, Tony realizes, as he walks into the communal room and sits between the two spies.

It’s really not that surprising of course. They are spies, it is their job to be observant. Still, it takes all of Tony’s willpower to not jump up and bolt out. Well, willpower as well as Nat’s arm on his wrist, not grabbing but more holding, in a surprisingly comforting way. That, combined with Clint’s instant commentary and quips is enough to get him to stay. He’s glad he did; it wasn’t a bad movie this time.

\---

You would think that being an Avenger would get him out of the typical galas, wouldn’t you? Unfortunately, that’s not exactly the case. Instead, Tony just has to go to twice as many, as both Iron Man and Tony Stark.

When Pepper comes with his invitation for a gala, something unimportant but apparently important enough to warrant attendance, he knows better than to argue. That’s partly what made her such a good assistant, now CEO, her ability to put the fear of God into most everyone she talks to.

It’s the first event in a while, a month at least, as he got a pass for them due to dying or whatever.

It’s the first major public event since he took the mesh off.

\---

It’d be so easy to wear it, Tony thinks to himself, as he slips on his suit pants, eyeing the mesh laid on the bed. So easy. Would keep the media off of his back for a while, he reasons.

Then again, he pauses, it’s not as if not wearing it automatically would expose him. There is an in-between.

And yet, it’s an in-between he hasn’t walked for a long while, for very real reasons.

His phone dings as Pepper texts him, asking him if she’ll have to come and drag him out of his shop again, and if so could he at least get dressed to spare her the effort of doing that too.

Snorting at the message, he quickly slips on his shirt and jacket, forgoing the mesh, before taking a picture in the mirror and assuring her he’ll be right out.

\---

Tony doesn’t miss being the head of a giant company. He never really wanted it, after all, apart from maybe a passing desire to spite his father and those who said he would be a bad fit for the company, so mainly the board. R&D fits him so much better, he thinks, as he can actually just spend his time inventing and creating, instead of sitting in meetings and talking about the concept of inventing.

Besides, it’s not exactly as if he’s idle nowadays, what with him being an Avenger, a technical consultant and supplier for the team and Shield, and the head of R&D, he is never short of things to do. Plus, being the head of research instead of the whole company also gets him out of the limelight more, not completely because, let’s face it he still is Tony Stark as well as Iron Man, but at least it’s a different shade of light now.

Still, he has obligations to the company, such as the galas he gets invited to, such as the gala he’s going to tonight. While it’s not technically an Avengers event, most of them turn up anyways, out of costume. With the way SI is so connected nowadays, it’s almost expected that at least some of the team will show up with Tony.

Tonight it happens to be just Bruce, with the spy twins apparently at an ever mysterious Shield “thing”, Thor off-world, and the Captain on backup in case there is an alert at the tower.

Not like Tony is complaining though, he and Bruce get on like a house on fire. Or more like Tony is the fire and Bruce is trying to put it out. Point is, they get along and Tony enjoys being with him.

“Ready for an exciting night of talking to old rich people,” Tony says as Bruce gets into the car.

“Like you?” Bruce smiles, getting situated.

“Brucie, you wound me, I am certainly not old,” Tony responds, smirking as the car starts to roll.

Snorting, Bruce nods.

“Can’t wait,”

\---

“Dr. Banner, it’s good to see you again,” Pepper starts, walking over to the two men an hour into the gala, looking immaculate as ever, something that Tony quickly lets her know.

“Ms. Potts,” Bruce says, turning around to face her. “Likewise, and please, Bruce,”

“Virginia then,” she offers, before turning to Tony. “You’re on in a few,”

“Yep,” Tony says, sighing, handing his full drink to Bruce as he walks off.

“How’s life been treating you?” Pepper asks, taking Tony’s drink from Bruce and sipping lightly.

“Life is okay, nice to actually settle down for a bit,” Bruce answers, sipping his own in turn when Pepper nods knowingly. “And you?”

“Chaotic, but when is it not,”

“Hm, too true,” Bruce smiles, turning to the lit stage, as the lights suddenly dim and Tony walks on, starting his speech.

“He’s good at this,” he whispers to Pepper, who answers with a nod.

“Had a lot of practice,”

“Mm,” Bruce hums as they stand in silence for a few moments, Tony’s voice the only sound other than the rustling of clothes.

“Heard you took care of him a little while back,” Pepper starts, eyes locked on Tony even when Bruce turns to look at her.

“He’s my friend,” Bruce explains, voice unsure.

“Thank you,” is the response, as eyes meet his.

“Of course,” 

Tony’s speech continues for a few minutes before he bids farewell and exits the stage to applause.

“He doesn't,” Pepper says, louder now to be heard over the rest of the chatting people, as her eyes follow Tony’s path back to the both of them. “Take care of himself,” she elaborates. “Or let himself be taken care of,”

“I’ve noticed,” Bruce says with a fond but exasperated huff of amusement waving back to Tony, who apparently had spotted them.

“Have you?” Pepper asks, staring at him before stepping back as Tony comes up to sling his arm over Bruce’s shoulder, her eyes glancing to his arm before back to Bruce’s face, prompting Bruce to look at the offending arm, catching only a flash of black before Tony lets him go.

“That was great, Tony,” Pepper praises, her attention back onto the engineer, leaving Bruce to mull.

\---

Tonys not sure if he likes Bruce and Pepper being friends. He never really liked Pepper and Natasha being friends, but that would be way too dangerous to say something about. But Pepper shouldn’t be recruiting Bruce, that's like, illegal or something.

Still, maybe it’s good and nothing bad, like the two of them deciding to end his unhealthy habits, will happen. Or not but hey, he can be hopeful, yeah?

Or not, he thinks, as Bruce finally asks Tony one day in the lab about his marks.

\---

Casually really, quite casually. And not in a bad way, no it’s actually not a bad interaction. Just, curiosity it seems more like.

“You still keep your marks hidden,” Bruce says, handing Tony a vial.

“I do,” Tony answers slowly, setting the vial up and turning to the other man.

“After you took the mesh off,”

“Taking the mesh off was never a means to an end,” Tony says. “Just,” he starts, hesitating. “A choice,”

“How come?”

“How come I took it off?”

“How come you made it,” Bruce explains, to be met with a stare from Tony, too tired and weary for Bruce to ignore. “If you don't want to, that’s okay Tony, really,” he says calmly, meaning it.

Sighing, Tony wonders how he got to this point in his life.

“I don’t like them,” Tony says calmly, hand moving to rub his wrist automatically. “Remind me of why they’re there,” he continues, apparently not able to stop now that he’s started. “Not the actual event, of course, just, that I let them happen, you know?” he asks, more himself than anyone else. “Like, that I wasn’t able to stop, I guess,” he finishes, with a chuckle before looking away and back at the test they were working on, Bruce joining him after a few moments as they work again in silence.

“It’s not weakness,” Bruce says quietly. “You’re not weak Tony,” he states firmly, meeting the other man’s eyes, even when he scoffs in disbelief.

“I’m serious Tony. The marks barely mean anything anyway, but they definitely don’t mean you’re weak” he continues.

“You don’t even know how many,” Tony mutters.

“Should I?” Bruce asks, not pushing, simply asking.

Pausing from what he was doing, Tony closes his eyes, looking conflicted.

“Tony, I wasn’t asking to see them,” Bruce clarifies. “Just, saying the number doesn’t matter to me, yeah?”

Tony nods. Logically, he knows the number doesn’t really matter. That it’s just a stupid tally, that really it’s just society’s view of them that makes him link it to weakness. If he’s being irrational, the marks show just how many times he was too weak to defend himself, to fight back, to survive.

Still nodding, Tony casually pushes his sleeves up, not looking back up from the experiment, even as his hands become too shaky to pour the liquid, even as he hears Bruce breathe in quickly, even as Bruce lays a hand on his shoulder, even as he knows it’s okay, it’s good.

\---

“Did Pepper set you up?” Tony asks, later.

“Not exactly?” Bruce asks, unsure himself if he’s being honest. “Possibly? Or just hinted?”

“Yeah, that sounds like Pepper,” Tony says with a sigh as he plops down on the communal couch, sleeves still pushed up unevenly. “Probably should thank her,” he muses, “or be angry. Either one,”

“She’d probably appreciate the former,” Bruce suggests, smiling.

“Probably,”

“Definitely,” Natasha adds, walking in and looking unsurprised to see Tony’s sleeves up, or the marks on display.

“Were you in on this?” Tony asks, turning around to look at her directly, only to be met with a smirk and a pat on the head from her and a snort from Bruce.

Glaring at the both of them, Tony crosses his arms, “Traitors,” he mutters, even as he smiles into his arms.

\---

Switching to not wearing long-sleeves only took more work than going from the mesh to no mesh. Still, it gave the same sense of freedom, if only with a bit more anxiety and fear tacked on. Of course, he still wore long-sleeves out of the tower, one step at a time and all, but it was a start.

The first morning he showed up to breakfast with his sleeves rolled up was interesting and entirely uneventful. Steve gave him a few stares, but also gave him a soft smile, so Tony supposes they’re all good on that front. Clint was more tactile than usual, then again Tony is pretty sure he already knew, but at least he has assurance from the archer now.

\---

Rhodey thinks it’s great, as expected, and isn’t afraid to tell Tony that he told him so, when Tony finally admits to feeling better due to it, most likely because he no longer feels like he is constantly having to hide something. Rhodey says he still isn’t a substitute for therapy, but he seems to be happy regardless.

Pepper apologizes for giving Tony a push, which he accepts but also rejects, knowing that if she never said anything, he would probably still be hiding. Not that he will appreciate it in the future though, he clarifies.

Still, it was good in the long term, Tony supposes.

\---

The next person who saw the marks was Thor, who gave him a pat on the shoulder and a knowing but respectful nod in the time that he spent on Earth.

Later that night, Thor pulled him aside to talk about the marks in general, about how they represent honor, and how Tony should be proud of himself. Tony would never admit he ever cried, but the hug he got was nice.

\---

It’s freeing, Tony muses one late night in bed, to be able to just be more open with the team. It’s probably healthy too, he supposes, snorting at the thought. Good mentally or whatever.

Whatever the case is, he feels freer than he has in a long time, making him think being bared to his team is worth it.

Gives him a sense of peace, he thinks to himself, before turning over to lay down, putting his mind to rest.

\---

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: This fic has mentions of self-deprecating thoughts and some other dark thoughts, descriptions of torture, and a temporary character death - they come back however they did die.
> 
> \---
> 
> Hope you guys liked this, it was born out of a sudden burst of inspiration but I had fun writing it so I hope it was enjoyable to read and, if you want, please leave a comment, I love hearing what you guys have to say :) Oh, and by the way, if you guys have any requests for fics, I have some free time on my hands so leave a comment and I'll try and get around to it. If I'm being optimistic, you'll also get a couple more fics within the next week or so, if I can actually get around to editing them. Hope you all are staying safe and healthy, until next time,


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